


Pearls

by zetuslapetus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25325110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: Annie finds out Beth left Rio her pearls and Beth finds out it didn't mean what she thought it meant.AND (NEW) the pearls make their way back to their rightful owner.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 29
Kudos: 382





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil drabble I've been thinking about because (and this is a hill I will die on) there is no way Rio thought a woman who left him her pearls wanted to talk business goodbyeeee.

“Wait - what?” Annie shakes her head and raises her beer in the air. The liquid sloshes and dribbles down her hand. “How have I never heard this story?” She says with a pointed look at her sister.

Beth rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her bourbon, and shrugs noncommittally at her. 

Mick snorts but Annie doesn’t let up. 

“ _ Who _ are you?” Annie says, flabbergasted. 

Beth smiles, relishing the woozy feeling of the bourbon running through her veins, the loud music, and chatter of young people around her. She looks up across the table, ignoring Annie’s stare and makes eye contact with Rio. He’s grinning like he’s got a secret, hiding it behind his glass of gin, watching her. She lets herself revel at the moment, for once, indulges in the warmth she feels in her chest. 

The night was a peculiar one. They’d delivered Rio’s cut to the bar instead of meeting at the park, an unusual request on his part. Then he’d offered them a drink for their troubles, an even more bizarre turn of events. Annie had quickly accepted on their behalf before Beth could even process what was happening. 

“What else could I do?” Beth looks at Annie. “Leave a note - excuse me, I have a business proposition, please call me?” 

Mick mumbles something in Spanish and Rio laughs quietly. The comment catches Annie’s attention and she tilts her head, eyeing the exchange between Mick and Rio. Beth shifts in her seat, feels a different warmth in her cheeks when Annie turns to look at her - embarrassment. The entire table’s staring at her and she’s the only one not in on the joke. 

“What?” Beth says and looks back and forth between Annie and Rio. 

Rio gives her a quick shake of his head and sips his gin with a grin.

Annie snorts and quickly covers her mouth with her hand.

“What!?” Beth exclaims. 

“A business proposition, really?“ Annie says and bites her lip. She levels Beth with a look reflective of pity, almost. 

“Yeah, what - “ Beth shakes her head and it makes her curls bounce. She turns to Rio, frowns at him. “I mean you knew what I wanted to talk about -” she trails off at his expression, the smirk plastered across his face. His eyes are dark, and Beth blushes to her toes. “Oh,” she exhales and her mouth drops open.

Annie takes another sip of her beer, tries not to laugh.

It’s too much suddenly and Beth has to look away. The air is sucked out of the room and she feels blood rushing in her ears. He must feel the shift too because he slips off the stool and taps the table once.

“The tab is open for as long as you’re here ladies, have a good night,” he says easily, voice steady. She can’t look at him but she hears Annie say goodbye.

When they’re out of earshot Annie starts laughing. 

“Oh - my - god, Beth, I mean I know you’re new to this but - “

“Shut up,” Beth snaps and downs the rest of her bourbon in one gulp. 

“You leave a man your _pearls_ , and you think he thinks its an invitation to discuss a _business_ _proposition_?” Annie cackles and Beth feels her palms begin to sweat.

After the initial shock wears off, something else settles over her. He thought she was inviting him back for sex - and he’d shown up. She swallows the knot in her throat and feels the familiar heat deep in her belly. 

He’d come back, in the middle of the night, because she’d called.

“The only thing he wanted to discuss was what position - “ 

Beth snaps at her before she can finish her sentence and Annie giggles at herself. 

“What’s the big deal?” Annie rolls her eyes, “It’s not like you didn’t end up deep in that proposition anyways,” she whispers and arches her brows insinuatingly.

“Can you finish your drink so we can go,” Beth says, ignoring the comment. She pushes her empty glass away and wipes her palms against her thighs. Then she looks up in the direction he’d left, towards the bar. 

He’s sitting with Mick, sipping on something and staring directly at her. She burns, but she doesn’t look away. Annie’s talking only Beth doesn’t register a word. The noise fades and all she feels is her heart pounding in her hears, against her ribs. 

He’d wanted her, even then. Even now. 

He stares, unwavering and she feels alive, body thrumming with energy. 

“Beth?” Annie calls. Beth blinks and snaps her attention back to Annie. 

“What?”

Annie scowls and gives her a dirty look.

“He’s right behind us, isn’t he?”

Beth shakes her head, grabs her purse, and slips off the stool. She can hear Annie whining behind her as she turns for the door. 

“But I’m not done!” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II - the pearls make their way back to Beth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking - no one asked for this and why won't she stop writing about pearls. Thanks!

She turns thirty-nine on a Sunday. Beth had never considered herself  _ that _ type of woman - the one to make a fuss about birthdays, or her age; Beth had also never turned thirty-nine before. 

Annie and Ruby take her out for the day. The first wave of panic hits her at brunch, with the first mimosa. Ruby tries to brush it off by changing the topic and Annie reminds her of how successful she is. 

Successful.

_ In crime, sure.  _

That’s about the time the second wave of panic hits. 

As with everything, the more she drinks the better she feels.

They spend the day together, and it almost feels like it did  _ before _ , before they were washing cash and moving pills. There’s even a moment when Beth forgets she’s divorced, and almost forty. 

When she’s finally home that evening, she changes into an oversized shirt and pours herself a drink. Still tipsy from dinner, Beth wobbles through the kitchen and plops down on a stool. She shuffles through the mail, hands a little too numb from the liquor to properly open any envelopes.

There’s a birthday card from her dentist reminding her to call in for a cleaning. Beth laughs out loud into the empty kitchen and throws the rest of her drink back.

There’s another envelope buried in the stack, thicker than the rest with no return address. The kind with the built-in bubbles inside for cushioning. 

Curious, she paws at it with shaky hands until she’s got it open. 

Inside is a long velvet box. Her breath catches in her chest, and time stops for a moment. It looks like jewelry. She checks the envelope again, there’s no sender or receiver address, no postage. It’s blank. 

She runs her fingers over the box and feels her heart rate pick up. She inhales, holds her breath and she cracks the box open.

Inside, splayed against a black velvet pillow, are perfectly shaped white pearls strung together on the thinnest string. 

She doesn’t realize she’s still holding her breath until she feels her heart pounding in her temples and her vision blur. She exhales and takes a few sharp breaths. 

It’s a  _ pearl _ necklace. 

There’s no note, no name but she knows exactly who they’d come from.

She runs her fingers against the polished little spheres and just stares.

He’d sent her pearls. 

Somehow, he’d figured out her birthday and he’d sent her jewelry. Beautiful, glossy pearls, nothing like the ones she’d left behind. These were larger, polished, and real. 

Hesitating for a brief moment, Beth slowly slides them out of the box. The hook is delicate but somehow she unclasps it with her shaky hands and quickly puts it on. She stands, takes a few strides to the microwave, and stares at herself in the chrome surface. 

The pearl in the middle, the one that falls directly into the dip between her clavicles is bigger than the rest. It makes her belly twist in an all too familiar way, and she lets herself feel it, revels in the warmth spreading through her body. 

She can’t remember the last time a man had bought her jewelry. The wedding ring Dean had given her was a family heirloom; she’d spent their entire marriage telling him she didn’t want or need jewelry, and he’d listened. 

_ She can’t keep these - can she? _

She looks at the time in the microwave and considers calling Annie. It’s late, she’s probably already passed out on her couch.

_ She’ll return them, she has to.  _

She touches the pearls again, pushes her hair out of her face and away from her neck. She’ll give them back but she can keep them on for a bit - a gift to herself.

She pours another drink and shuffles to her bedroom. 

She needs to take a shower, go to bed, take the necklace off. Instead, she grabs her phone and dials. 

He picks up on the second ring.

“Elizabeth,” he drawls, not bothering with pleasantries, just her name.

She opens her mouth to respond, but hiccups instead.

She thinks she hears him chuckle.

“Have you been drinking?” He asks.

“I can’t keep these,” she blurts out and plops down on the bed with a soft exhale. “Why did you send them?”

“Just returnin’ what’s yours,” he says quietly. 

The memory of that night rushes through her. The excitement she’d felt at going back alone, hoping to find him, then leaving the only thing she had behind and hoping he’d remember her. The first head rush she’d felt walking into danger, the first taste of it that’d hooked her for good.

“No,” she chides him, “These are - “ she pauses, and her hand snaps up to where they rest against her skin.

“What?” He hums. It’s quiet wherever he is. She wonders if he’s at home, if he’s in bed too.

“- nice,” she says lamely. The word is nowhere near adequate to describe the perfect little jewels. 

“You wearing ‘em right now?” His voice is low and does things to her that she can’t admit out loud, even tipsy. “You are, aren’t you?” 

She hums in response, doesn’t trust her voice to speak up.

“What else you wearin’, Elizabeth?” He adds and she hears her breathing pick up. He, on the other hand, sounds unaffected. 

She looks down at her bare legs, and the cotton panties peeking out from beneath the rumpled shirt she’d put on earlier. She frowns. It’s comfortable but frumpy, and definitely not complementary to pearls. 

“I wanna see what they look like,” he says. 

She lets out a shaky exhale and there’s no way he can’t hear the way her breath catches.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d dropped them off you could have,” she says, a little too brave. She takes a sip of her drink and places it on the nightstand. It doesn’t taste right, either the ice has melted or she’s too drunk to taste anything.

“Yeah, you woulda shown me?” He says quickly, voice not as steady as before. 

She exhales, mind already made up, and sets the phone down on the bed. She’s probably going to regret this tomorrow. 

She reaches for the edge of the shirt and quickly slips it off. 

She’s definitely going to regret this tomorrow.

She picks up the phone, opens the camera, and shakes her hair out. She slides one arm across her chest and snaps the photo. It’s tasteful, showing off the pearls in the center of the photo, the barest swell of cleavage, and her bottom lip.

She doesn’t think too much about it, her brain hazy and her limbs too heavy. She sends it and lifts the phone back to her ear.

“Check your messages,” she says and lays back into bed, topless. She burrows under the covers, shower long forgotten. The sheets are cool and heaven against her flushed skin. 

“Fuck,” he whispers after a moment of quiet. “I bet you’d look even better in diamonds, momma.”

She closes her eyes at his words, holds her breath. This little game of theirs was even easier over the phone when they didn’t have to face each other and could push a little further under the cover of night. 

“You can’t say things like that,” she sighs and slips her hand between her legs.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” she says and presses two fingers to her clit. This is a bad idea. She’s tipsy and feeling brave, not to mention she hasn’t gotten laid in a while. “Are you in town?” She blurts out. 

She also hasn’t seen him in a few weeks. He’d sent Mick to the last pick up and she’d been annoyed the rest of the day because she’d worn that one sweater with the opening right at the bust and Mick had talked about tacos the entire time. 

“Elizabeth,” he says her name again, quiet, like a warning. She wants to snap back at him that he’d started it but then she hears shuffling over the line before he speaks again. “You gonna be awake?”

She smiles into the pillow, shifts to her side, and slips her hand back out.

“Maybe,” she says playfully. 

“Twenty minutes,” he grunts before he hangs up. 

***

He makes it in under fifteen.

She throws on a robe and meets him at the side door. She stumbles a little when she opens the door and lays eyes on him. He’s wearing a hoodie and a pair of black soft track pants. It’s the most casual she’s ever seen him and there’s just something about how relaxed he looks that makes her stomach flutter. 

He gives her a quick nod when he steps inside, eyes dark and fixed to her neck. 

_ The pearls. _

She’d almost forgotten, distracted by the way his keys hang off his long fingers, distracted by how soft his sweater looks. 

She feels the familiar throbbing deep between her legs. 

She clears her throat, steps back until she feels the kitchen island at her bottom and shakes her hair back. She wants to roll her eyes and make a joke but then he’s flush against her and she can’t breathe.

He pushes a curl over her shoulder, away from the pearls, and gives her a sly grin. His eyes drop down her body, and the single loop holding the robe together. He fingers the end of the belt, wraps it around his finger once before he gives it a soft tug. It doesn’t take much for the robe to unravel and drop open.

He slips both hands around her middle, squeezes lightly, pearls forgotten at the sight of bare skin. His eyes follow his hands as they drop to her hips, then back up across her ribs. 

“I thought you were here to see what the pearls looked like,” she quips, trying not to moan at the feel of his hands.

He smiles, looks up at her, and shakes his head.

“Nah, I already know what they look like, I picked them out,” he says and dips his head down to catch a nipple in his mouth.

She whimpers at his words, toes curling against the tile at the feel of his tongue on her. Her fingers find their way to the back of his head and she arches into him. He sucks at the skin, lets it go with a loud pop. 

He mumbles something she can’t hear against the skin between her breasts.

“You weren’t at the last drop,” she whispers, mouth open. They don’t do this - keep tabs or check-in but she’s curious and tipsy enough to prod. 

He pauses, looks up at her with a smirk, and tightens his arms around her lower back. The move pulls her into him. 

“You miss me?” He asks with a sly smile and rubs his chin against her chest. 

She rolls her eyes, and grabs his biceps but doesn’t pull away.

“Yeah, you did. Missed me staring at these, hm?” He slides his mouth over a nipple, suckles softly. Her head lolls forward into him. Keeping one arm snug around her middle, he slides the other hand beneath her robe and palms an ass cheek. “Missed me trying to get a look at this ass? Did you wear those tight jeans I like?” 

Her cheeks burn. It’s too much to look at him when he’s this close, when he’s talking like this. Amused, he laughs quietly at her sheepish reaction.

“No, I had Mick,” she responds with a shake of her head and lifts her chin a little defiantly. She can’t control the deepening blush though. 

The grin on Rio’s face blooms into a full smile. The fingers on her ass slip beneath her panties and she squirms. 

“I don’t think you’re his type, sweetheart,” he says with a small shake of his head, still smiling. 

She frowns. Maybe, but he was still a man.

She opens her mouth to protest but he cuts her off.

“Mick’s gay,” he deadpans and Beth’s mouth drops open. “Before you get ya’ panties in a twist,” he adds with a grin and tugs on her panties. 

“Oh,” she exhales.

Not giving her any time to process, he grabs her chin and kisses her. They kiss against the counter, open-mouthed, frantic. He pushes into her, presses himself against her belly and she moans. 

She slides her hands around his neck, slides her fingers through his hair. It’s longer than usual, she thinks, feels thicker beneath her fingers. His beard is longer too, darker, and somehow feels softer. She wonders if he really was out of town.

“Wanna fuck you with nothin’ but these pearls on,” he grunts against her mouth. “Been thinking about it.”

She whimpers.

“You have?” She wants to hear more, needs to hear more.

He hums against her mouth, slips a hand into her hair, and drops his mouth to her neck.

“Since you walked into my warehouse, makin’ demands like you run something,” he laughs into her neck, bites at the skin. “Then leaving them behind for me.”

She squirms, digs her nails into the skin of his neck.

“Yeah,” she whispers and lets her head drop to the side, gives him more room to bite and suck at the soft flesh. It doesn’t take much to mark her, she’s so pale she blooms at the barest bite. He smiles into the skin at the thought.

“Thought about bending you over this counter when I came back that night,” he says softly, and noses into her hair. He squeezes her waist, feels her squirm at his words. “I bet you woulda’ let me, wouldn’t you?” He asks with a squeeze of her hips.

“Yeah,” she mumbles again, eyes glazed over. 

He tugs her panties down, barely getting them around her hips but down enough for him to slip a hand between bare thighs. It doesn’t take long to find exactly the rhythm she likes. He knows precisely when he’s got her because she pulls out of the kiss and cries out. 

“Happy birthday, Elizabeth,” he mumbles against her mouth.

“How did you know?” She whispers and twists a hand into his sweater. 

He doesn’t answer, just grins at the way she pants and crowds her against the counter. She pulls on his sweater, lets her head fall backward, and cries his name when she comes. It feels good, but not enough. 

“You good?” He slips a hand under her chin and brings her head back. She nods, eyes still closed. He runs his knuckles against the pearls. 

“As much as I like bending you over furniture - “ he begins and she laughs, and pushes against his stomach.

She leads him to her bedroom, slips the robe off completely, and stretches across the bed on her stomach. She’s so relaxed she feels like she could melt into the bed. 

“I think I said pearls only,” he grunts. She turns on her back to find him watching her, undressing slowly. He drops his henley on the floor and slips a hand into his sweats.

She squirms on the bed, presses her knees together, then slips her panties down her thighs. The move catches his attention and he stops undressing. When she pauses he nods at her to continue. She does.

She pushes the panties to her knees and leans back on the bed. He cups himself through the sweats and squeezes hard. 

“Open,” he says, eyes dark and focused on her knees.

She shakes her head and points to his pants. 

He grins, slips his pants, and boxers off quickly. He’s fully hard and she forgets that she’s pressing her knees together at the sight of him. He strokes himself from base to tip, still standing at the end of the bed.

“Let me see,” he says quietly and she lets her knees drop open. He grunts, eyes glued to her core, and hand working himself. She wants to touch herself but she can’t focus on anything but the way his hand pumps his cock. 

He takes a step forward and kneels on the bed. When he slides closer, he settles between her legs and lets go of himself to palm both of her knees. He pushes her legs wider apart until she’s spread open almost obscenely. 

He slides his fingers through her folds, avoiding her clit. He touches softly, coats his fingers in her wetness but doesn’t make a move to push inside. After a few moments of letting him explore, she cants her hips up at him, annoyed at his teasing. 

He smirks and grabs his cock. He leans over her, covers her body with his own until he’s close enough to feel her breath. She feels the blunt tip of his cock at her entrance, and closes her eyes for a brief moment, anticipating that first push of him.

He slides the head in, pushes forward inch by inch. They haven’t done this in weeks, she hasn’t fucked anyone else since him and he’s got to know because his eyes snap shut and he groans. His mouth goes slack and she wants to kiss him but she doesn’t want to take her eyes off of him. His brows furrow when he sinks deeper and his fingers find her clit before he bottoms out. it pulls a cry out of Beth.

He moves, slow at first until he needs more. He applies pressure against her swollen nub of nerves and strokes a little harder. She can’t catch her breath. 

He looks down at the pearls and runs his tongue against his bottom lip.

“Every time you put them on, think of this,” he grunts with a sharp snap of his hips against hers. “I know I will.”

She’s never going to be able to look at these pearls, let alone wear them. 

She’s too sensitive from her first orgasm, too overwhelmed with the feeling of him inside of her, too overwhelmed with his words. She feels her orgasm build quickly. 

It doesn't take long before she comes again. Her mouth parts, she shifts her hips up to chase after each thrust. She feels her insides tremble, and when she comes it's quiet, mouth open in a wordless cry as she shakes under him. 

Her cunt flutters around him and he fucks her through her orgasm until his thrusts grow erratic, and he grips her hips so tight it almost hurts. He pounds into her warmth, still quivering from her orgasm and when he comes he lets out a stream of  _ fuck fuck fuck  _ against her chest. 

She runs her fingers through his hair as he catches his breath, still moving inside of her. Her thighs ache and sleep pulls at her. When he slips out of her body, he kneels above her for a moment and she feels the barest touch of his knuckles down the valley between her breasts. 

She hums, exhales softly, and lets her eyes close.

When she wakes in the morning, she’s alone, wearing only pearls.


End file.
